(57) Head Over Heels

Tall, firtrees bend their heads towards the surface of the shimmering water as we lift slightly on its moving table. We are carried somewhat by the cool summer breeze and partially the force sent by a nearby water-skier dancing and skimming along its edges. I smile contentedly, the breath of the heavens cooling my burning shoulders from the blazing sun above us with no puffy white clouds to block its wrath. We are drifting slowly across Lake Candlewood having been invited by Charlotte’s uncle, whom we have been requested to call Uncle Frank, to annually spend an idyllic day here at the site of a camp he owns and runs until July 20. With a final absence of campers, Brit, Charissa, Pastsy, Charlotte and I have piled into a canoe, sporting life vests, sunglasses, and a liberal amount of tanning oil to spend the day in total relaxation. The boys are somewhere in the distance, probably creating their own kind of fun, while Uncle Frank is seated on the beach no doubt taking a mid-afternoon nap. The day could not get much-

“ONE, TWO, THREE!” My thoughts are immediately interrupted as I hear five distinct voices shout excitedly near where we are floating. Suddenly Britney lets out a piercing scream followed by boyish laughter. Ripping off my sunglasses I find Britney still screaming while clawing at an enormous pile of brown seaweed on top of her life vest as Josh and Cameron slap each other a jovial high-five. I shake my head at Cameron painfully trying to stifle my own laughter. With Britney starting to scream at them, Holt reaches his oar across our canoe to flick off the remaining fragments of foliage. I watch him intently, having heard Britney explain to us that they were days from going out, and how she simply adored him. It doesn’t seem fair at this moment, maybe because after watching one too many chick-flicks all I want is that special someone and after her other fifteen discarded beaus it doesn’t make sense that Britney is deserving of the attention of one so wonderful as Sam’s cousin from Wilton.

“You are GOING TO GET IT, Josh. I MEAN IT!” Britney’s short braids smack her arm as she turns to shout further at him. I scratch a mosquito bite on my left ankle absent-mindedly.

“Relax, Brit, it’s all in love.” I smirk as Josh so famously tries to smooth things over. “We actually came over here to initiate a friendly canoe race, isn’t that right boys.” With a few grunts of a manly agreement, Charissa and I glance at each other with interest.

“At first we were going to take you all on,” Sam starts, “but then we realized that would be painful for you, so we created a list of teams.” Cameron retrieves a soggy list from the back pocket of his red trunks.

“And no Daria,” Josh cuts in, “you are not going to be paired with Cameron because inevitable things would happen and we wouldn’t end up seeing either of you for the rest of the day.” I shake my head joining everyone else in roars of laughter. It has been the joke since Cameron moved here that we are going to suddenly end up together just because we “claim” to be best friends. Though Cameron is extremely desirable, it’s purely platonic between us.

“It’s okay,” Cameron holds up his hands. “Daria, we’ll have our time later.” The group laughs again, and then Cameron continues. “Okay, here are the partners: Josh and Britney…”

“WHAT?” Britney lets out. Josh sends her a glowing beam as she begins to pout.

“Don’t worry, Brit, you guys will work it out. Okay, Charissa and Rick, Charlotte and Sam, Patsy and I, and Daria and Holt.” My eyes raise as Cameron finishes the list, shouldn’t Holt be with Britney?

We all paddle back towards the dock to set up for the battle, carrying more canoes across the sand and retrieving more oars to move them with. Holt and I are the first ones in the water, and as we wait for the remaining teams to settle themselves, we practice our skill as we jet towards the red buoys.

“So how is your summer going?” I ask, rearranging my hair-tie.

“It’s been alright.” I turn towards him so that we can make eye contact from our opposite ends of the canoe. “I haven’t had much time for fun since I have had all these camps I have had to go to.

“Lacrosse?” I ask, remembering the Brine t-shirt laying on a rock back at the shore.

“Yeah.” He laughs. “They’re over now though, finally, so I intend to make the most of the time I have left.” I smile about to ask him his plans when Cameron and Patsy come towards us.

“Prepare to be annihilated.” Cameron announces confidently.

Soon all of us have lined up together side by side facing the other sets of markers and we face Josh’s tan face until he gives us a cue. “Alright,” he begins fully enjoying the anticipation, “On your mark, get set, GO!” Suddenly all the adrenaline rushes throughout my body as well as the competitive Knight family genes, and all I can think about is winning this race. Together Holt and I with long, complete strokes propel forward, our oars slapping through the water on opposite sides of our vehicle, soon finding ourselves ahead of everyone else. My arms burn with the exertion, and my heart begins to drum uncontrollably as our speed increases.

“We’re creaming…them.” I gasp. I glance behind me just in time to see Britney hit the water as Josh has given up and tipped both of them over in final torture. Holt and I steadily continue reaching the fated yellow buoy and turn with a little work sharply around it.

“We’re almost there,” Holt shouts, “Whoooo hoooo!” The fiery desire to win burns within me as I paddle faster and faster. Sweat is forming at my brow, a bird soars overhead, and I can hear the faint shouts of Britney, but everything is trivial. We have to win, we have to claim this race as our own. I can almost taste the satisfaction, the exultation of victory. Then, with out any warning, it happens. In one motion, I feel my body tingling with cold as a splash rings in my ears and all is blurry. Rising above the surface suddenly I am out of the canoe, my favorite black flip-flops sliding off my bare feet in the depths of Candlewood. The life vest holds me up while I move my legs around in astonishment. “Shoot!” I yell with the agony of one who has just been shot in battle. I had done it, I had squashed Holt’s and my chances of winning, our destiny to claim the positions of racing champions.

“Are you alright?” Holt’s head appears over the edge of the canoe.

I laugh, “Yeah.” Grabbing its hard metal edges I attempt to get back in, using all of my strength to reach upwards. I struggle helplessly though, wishing more than ever that I hadn’t cut so many weight-training classes this year. Finally, giving up, I tell him unhappily, “I can’t do it. I have absolutely no upper-body strength.” All I want is to be back in this canoe, but as Holt grabs both of my dripping hands, I still cannot find the power to pull myself in. We continue trying, each time my hands slipping from his, letting my body splash back into the water. It seems like I am going to have to spend the rest of the day in the cold, slimy lake, or I am going to have to swim all the way back to shore. Each option is equally as agonizing.

“Give me your leg!” He shouts.

“MY WHAT?” I reply.

“Just do it.” A little embarrassed I reach my right foot towards him knowing that if Britney just caught a glimpse of this charade I am involved in with her future boy friend she wouldn’t talk to me for weeks. Grasping my foot and my hand, Holt makes one last effort to bring me towards him and letting my other foot push itself against the side of the canoe, I finally slump back on the metal surface, sopping wet and fully out of breath. Crumpled on the bottom of our canoe, Holt and I look at each other and burst out laughing.

“I don’t think you’re wet enough.” I tell him, sending a splash of water towards his face from the pool forming beneath me. The water smacks him in the face, water dripping from his dirty blonde hair into his squinting eyes. He thanks me.
I sit up on the seat I had previously been championing to start scouring the waves for my other flip-flop. Suddenly he tosses something towards me as it sloshes against my leg and I realize he had somehow grabbed it even among the skirmish. Now it’s my turn to thank him.

“How long do you think it will take for them to realize we’re not there?” I ask him, starting to wring out my hair as it drips back into the lake.

“A good hour and half.” He replies stretching out and tapping down his shades. I watch him with amusement not letting myself even think about liking him in any way, shape or form. We sit together a moment in silence, a whirring from a far off speed boat filling the refreshing air as the water shimmers around us. I gaze at the tiny dots of our friends moving about on the sand across the depths, probably starting to eat lunch.

“Too bad you weren’t Britney’s partner.” I murmur glancing at him with a smile.
He puts his hands behind his head. “Nah, I mean she’s okay, but I think she is starting to get the wrong idea about us.” My eyes widen and I hope not noticeably. It is quiet again, as I think about the irony of my tumbling out of the canoe.

“Anyway I’d much rather be with you than her.” I think about that for a moment, wondering to myself if that really is that much of a compliment. He lets his foot lift up a dash of water that hits me in the arm. Surprised, I laugh contentedly unsure of what is going to occur next, in this perfect moment, this last month and a half of summer, this inevitably amazing year. And as the water laps gently against the side of our canoe, the sun sends its embrace upon our aching shoulders, and time almost stops completely, we remain in one another’s company, sharing our views of our friends, family, and the blossoming world around us.